The Pain of the Past
by Nativechild
Summary: It was over. The months of pain had finally ended. Alexa was gone. But for Methos the pain was just beginning. And I didn’t know what to do about it…
1. The Pain of the Past

Title: The Pain of the Past Author: Nativechild Rating: pg 13  
Archive: Sure. Just let me know so I can jump for joy that somebody  
actually wants my stuff.  
Summary: It was over. The months of pain had finally ended. Alexa was  
gone. But for Methos the pain was just beginning. And I didn't know  
what to do about it.  
  
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It was over. The months of pain had finally ended. Alexa was gone. But for Methos the pain was just beginning. And I didn't know what to do about it.  
  
"I'm going to head home Mac."  
  
I didn't want him to be alone, not tonight. He had just brought Alexa back to be buried. Or, at least he had just brought her body back. I didn't want him to face this night alone. "Stay. It's late, and your tired, not to mention just a little bit drunk. Just stay for the night, and I'll take you back in the morning."  
  
I could see Methos was to tired to argue with any degree of effectiveness, so he just nodded and moved towards the couch. I waylaid him and told him to go lay down on the bed. Surprisingly, he tried to protest, but I just physically turned him around and gave him a gentle shove in the general direction of the bed.  
  
"MacLeod, you don't have to do this, you know. I have done this before."  
  
"I know," I reply "but so have I, and I don't want you to be alone right know." He opens his mouth to tell me where to go, but I forestalled him by the simple expedient of saying "You might as well stay quiet, because I'm not letting you leave here without a serious fight, and frankly, right now you look as though a weak gust of wind could push you over, so shut up, get undressed, and get into bed." I think I actually caught him off guard because he actually does what I tell him to. Unfortunately it doesn't last long.  
  
"Mac, I'm not going to take your bed. If your going to make me stay here, at least join me." With a wicked twinkle in his eye I hadn't seen in months, he says, "Nothing will happen. Scout honour." All the while holding his hand up in the traditional scouts symbol. I just snort at him and head for the bed, preparing to climb in.  
  
Turn down the lights, turn down the bed  
Turn down these voices inside my head  
Lay down with me, tell me no lies  
Just hold me close, don't patronize - don't patronize me  
  
Later that night I couldn't sleep. The only picture that was running around in my head was of Methos lying peacefully in my bed. It was a picture that I had fantasized about for years, ever since he had begun to let me into his life. And now here he was, and I couldn't do a Goddamn thing about it.  
  
Laying there for a few minutes trying to will myself to sleep I hear a sound coming from the other side of the bed that sounds suspiciously like crying. Like someone who was crying and desperately trying not to let anyone else hear. Methos. I wait for about ten seconds, debating with myself whether or not to try to comfort him. My heart beats my head in the debate, which is screaming at me to leave him alone, to spare his pride. I turn around as quickly as I can and wrap him in my arms. After initially trying to resist, he eventually loosens up and starts to cry in earnest, great, racking sobs that make the bed shake in sympathy.  
  
I try to sooth him, making ridiculous noises, all the while holding him tightly in my arms. Before I know it, I'm giving him small, childlike kisses all over his face, whispering that everything would be all right. Eventually I have kissed his whole face and I instinctively kiss his lips. Once, twice, three times, and suddenly he's kissing me back. This goes on until my brain is mush and I forget why my conscious is screaming at me to stop, and why it's kicking my brain in frustration when I don't listen to it. Dear God, what am I doing.? 


	2. The Pain of Uncertainty

No, I shouldn't be kissing him - oh my God, it feels so nice. No!  
  
It takes effort, but I manage to pull away, but I can't stop a little whimper from escaping me when my lips get torn from his. I pause a little while to catch my breath, and when I finally manage to open my eyes, Methos is glaring at me in silent reproach, asking me why I stopped with those changeable eyes.  
  
I have no reason or excuse, but this, "I can't"  
  
"Can't, or won't?" He returns.  
  
"Either, both, none take your pick." He takes a deep breath as preparing for a great fight, but lets it out in a great sigh instead. In a calm voice, that I suspect is a lie, he asks a question, which on the surface seems simple, but in truth is incredibly complicated -"Why?"  
  
I think about my answer, about how to phrase it properly so that it does not sound like pity, and say "Call me a boy scout if you want, but you're hurting and I wont take advantage of that just so I can jump into bed with you." It would hurt too much, to see you get up in the morning and leave with casual wave and a 'it's been fun'.  
Cause I can't make you love me if you don't  
You can't make your heart feel something it won't  
Here in the dark, in these final hours  
I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power  
But you won't, no you won't  
'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't  
  
"MacLeod, as much as I appreciate the concern for my mental state of mind, I'll be fine. The only thing I want form you now, is your lips on mine, and your body, and my body doing delicious things to each other." Shit. 


End file.
